


Shit Here we go Again

by agravicArtist



Series: Legacy's Tales [1]
Category: Dayshift At Freddy's, Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Flashbacks, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Swearing, This started out as a crack ship and now I got serious about it so we'll have to see, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2020-07-30 20:24:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20103112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agravicArtist/pseuds/agravicArtist
Summary: After being abandoned again in Las Vegas by his partner, Dave Miller, Jack’s finally become overwhelmed with the trauma of his past and his state of having no soul. Barely able to keep on their feet, the orange guy buys a Start Your own Fazbear’s Restaurant, hoping to find a purpose again…This is the story of how one slip-up changes Legacy’s pre-destined path forever.





	1. Another Day in a long Series of Days

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this random pairing and after hashing some things out with somebody on Tumblr, began to write. Hopefully this goes well, but since I haven't seen any content for it I figured that I might as well. I don't know how I'll be updating schedule-wise as I'm not in a particularly good place in terms of ability to sit down and write regularly, but I'll try my best!  
I'm calling it WACK (Wilson/Jack) and also because the ship is wack :,D

Jack, worn out and tired collapsed onto the couch in his small house, exhaustion weighing down in every bone. It felt like the Earth itself was trying to swallow him whole, but he’d done it. After years of “saving up” he had his own Fazbenders. The Phoney that had greeted him had been a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. Just… uncomfortable. It sounded like he could get a different one though if he got enough money from opening day, so hopefully it would go well.  
  
The orange person’s thoughts unconsciously drifted back to the past and he rolled over, suddenly extremely cold and uncomfortable as they inevitably went to his former partner… in crime.  
  
_Dave Miller…_  
  
Abandoned again, though he shouldn’t have really been all that surprised. Jack was used to it by now, though it had seemed like maybe they were something more than that… But in the dead of night all those years ago, his purple friend had left and Jack was alone. Again.  
  
Fighting off the icy ache in his chest, Jack closed his eyes, not even bothering to change out of his suit. _Tomorrow would be another day… _  
  
Jack heard the beeping of his alarm down the hall in his room. He rolled off the bed, stumbling blearily to his feet, and walked down to turn it off. The undead person trudged down the hall, every step feeling like lead weights were attached to his feet, dragging him down. Yet despite this, Jack felt restless... the energy to do something was rising in him again. Likely this was because this was usually the day… things happened.  
  
Attempting to shrug this off, Jack got ready for the day. They didn’t even attempt to brush their hair as that was more effort than it was worth, throwing on pounds of orange make-up to disguise the scars that laced across his face like cobwebs. More orange than he was, Jack left the house to go back to Freddy Fazbender’s Pepperonerie.   
  
Soon, Jack arrived at Fazbenders.. His Fazbenders. Plastering on his smile, Jack pushed open the doors, and walked in, immediately greeted by the Phoney the place had come with. Harry. No Last name.  
  
Better than being called Scott Cawthon like all the rest he supposed, but still, not great. Jack felt apathy roll over him and he stared at the plain-headed phone before walking forward, weight rolling smoothly after years of practice…with Dave. Loneliness stabbing through the apathy, Jack’s smile became more strained as he stopped in front of Harry.  
  
“Good morning sir.” Harry greeted, voice the same as it was yesterday. Slightly different than the one at the last location Jack had worked at, but similar enough that he had a very difficult time feeling any sort of emotion towards Phone Guys. Though that could just also be the whole ‘no soul’ schtick.  
  
“Hello Harry.” Jack said, dark eyes flicking from Harry to look at the desolate like place before turning back to the taller man. “What’s on the menu for today?”  
  
“Well, you need to get a performer, or get some sort of assistance as you can’t just get in a… costume like you did last time.” Harry looked through the clip board with papers that he held as he updated Jack. Or at least, that’s what the orange man assumed as the phone guy flicked through the pages.  
  
“Alright, would hiring another phone guy help with that then…?” Jack asked, though he wasn’t particularly asking with how monotone his voice was. They didn’t…or maybe couldn’t care how they came off to the Phoney. It didn’t matter anyways. Harry nodded, and handed Jack the paper with the address and phone number of the Factory. Shivering for a different reason now, the orange guy looked down at the numbers, feeling his throat block up.

  
Maybe it was a bad idea to get the Factory involved more… while the place had (at least according to rumors) been drastically down-sized due to the fact that the place Jack owned was the only open Fabenders, the spring-lock victim still couldn’t shake his inherent terror of the place. Being turned into a puppet for the place to use… At least to the un-dead person that would probably be the only worse thing than being soulless as he was.  
  
“Alright, I’ll get back to you about this later…” Jack forced out after awhile of just staring blankly at the page. There wasn’t a whole lot to do outside of hiring more help, as the place had not gotten enough business yet to warrant buying any further upgrades.  
  
“You’ll have to save up a bit, as Phone Guys don’t come cheap.” Harry called after Jack as he walked mechanically to the office, and sat down in the chair, reaching to pick up the phone and dial the number. Feeling as if he was watching his body move of its own accord now, Jack typed in the numbers and put the phone to his hear, heart pounding in his chest.  
  
“Hello, hello hello?”


	2. A Mis-call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things seem to be amiss with Jack as he calls The Factory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I didn't know exactly how far to progress the story, and then I got sick a few days ago in addition to needing to go job-searching again. I'll try to work things out better, but I hope you like this chapter as it was certainly interested to write. Plot-wise things will definitely start rolling next chapter, I just needed to get the last things set up! :)

“Hello, hello hello?” The orange guy’s eyes furrowed in confusion at the sound of the voice. Was that...? He’d never encountered a woman phoney before. Snapped somewhat out of his trance by this, Jack leaned back in the chair, sprawling out somewhat to be more comfortable for what he figured would likely be a long conversation.

“Yeah, hey this is Jack, Owner of Freddy Fazbender’s Pepperonerie?” His right hand that wasn’t holding the phone moving into tangled hair as he spoke. Mind struggling to focus still, the orange man tugged on the locks he’d wrapped around his fingers, void colored eyes staring intently at the wall in front of them.

“Uhh- this is Afton Robotics, front desk. Scottie speaking, how can I help you today?” The voice asked afterwards, further bewildering the Orange Guy. Hadn’t that place shut down long ago? That’s what the tapes said that he’d watched before opening up the restaurant had said, right?

“Yes, we are. We don’t make new robots though.” Oh. It seemed like Jack had said his thoughts aloud again without noticing.

“We rent out a few fan favorites, did you want to call to ask about renting one of them?” Furrowing his brow in confusion, Jack scratched against the side of the table, struggling to focus on what she was saying.

“So…this isn’t…the Factory’s number?” He asked dark eyes staring at the wall in front of him, but not completely seeing anything.

“No, I’m sorry but this is not the number for them. If that’s all, Goodbye.”  
With that conversation over, Jack leaned forward, hanging up the phone, to set his head against the side of the office desk. Thoughts swirling in confusion, he took a shuddering breath to try and calm himself. So that nerve-wracking call was for nothing. Why had Harry given him that number then? Jack felt his grin widen as his emotions cascaded into a turbulence that promised hell. He jerked to his feet, shoving the chair back before pulling his hair away from his face.

“Scott!” Old Sport called out, crossing his arms over his chest to try and contain the storm he felt brewing in himself. Hopefully the phone-guy would have some sort of explanation for lying. If there was one thing Jack hated more than anything, it was that…

“Hello! Hello, hello!” The afore-requested phone guy said, about to start his usual tirade when he paused. Jack’s permanent grin had gone from hastily pasted on to hide his emotions to a face-splitting menacing smile. Hopefully the phone had picked up on what was going on, as otherwise he would soon find himself in more danger than he’d bargained for.

“I called the number… is there any reason as to why I got some person at Afton Robotics instead of the factory…?” Jack asked, his voice almost soft as he tilted his head. The orange guy was going about the route of manipulation, if he could get his employee to out himself it would make the next few steps much easier.

“Oh! Uhhh, did I? I’m so sorry sir, I can contact them myself. I thought that I’d gotten the right number.” The phone-guy said, usual programmed stutters barely there. Jack’s dark eyes narrowed as they felt pressure in their head.

_‘He’s lying…’_ The deep voice of a person they knew long ago echoed as the pressure built. Shuddering, the orange guy pulled on his hair attempting to re-gain control of his own thoughts. Things were supposed to be different, after Dave vanished. Though the inner voice had only picked up their former tormentor’s voice a couple months ago, it said the same things as it always did.

“Do try better next time please, I’d like to keep this place from running into the ground…” Jack said, barely above a mumble. He could feel his scars aching and he shifted in place, full of un-tapped energy that sprung forth as it always did when his emotions went haywire like this. Usually this was dealt with by partnering up with Dave, but as the aubergine man hadn’t shown up, Jack was struggling to find another constructive way to deal with it… Aside from internalizing everything…

“Alright, I’ll do my best, thank you sir.” Harry said, metaphorically side-eying Jack. “Is there anything else you need me to do before we open the place?”

Feeling himself space out as the conversation continued, Jack felt his head shake and his cotton-filled mouth opened to answer the question.  
“No that will be all for today, thank you Employee…”

Watching as Scott left, Jack stumbled towards the wall, and leaned against it. Head spinning he tried to breath deeply to calm himself down, but was unable to as he felt the aching pain in his scars sharpen into points, not dissimilar to the spring-lock failure that had caused most of them in the first place. Dry-heaving, Old Sport shrunk in on himself, breathing shallowly as his mind went back to when he first died. _‘Liar, traitor, _**monster.**’  
  
Vision darkening, Jack scratched against his palm, trying to get some sort of feeling to ground him to reality again. Eons seemed to pass until the ringing in his ears finally silenced and he could breath properly again. Shaky as torn confetti in the wind, the orange guy dragged himself back upright, though he still leaned heavily against the wall.  
Today was not going to be a good day.


	3. Days and Dollars and Missing Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legacy continues about his day, and finally confronts Scott on what happened earlier. What he gets in response is unexpected...

Void eyes looked around the room, slowly taking into account where they were.

Office.

Security office.

That’s right, he’d gone into the security office.

Okay keep yourself together tangerine… Fingers twitching, Old Sport swallowed back the urge to curl up on the ground and took shaking steps along the wall to the exit of the room.  
One step. And another. Each one felt like he was wading through flood water, on solid ground. If Jack tilted too far or wasn’t sure of his footing, he’d be swept away at a moment notice. And nobody would ever be there to help. For a long time, that person had been Dave, but the orange man was on his own for this. A fact that continued to jar him, rubbing like a festering wound inside their chest so that it never healed. At least Old Sport had grown used to hopelessness…  
  
Finally, after what felt like another decade, but he knew was only a few minutes, Jack made it back out into the main area where he saw the phone-headed employee. Feeling his grin widen, almost of its own volition, Jack felt the goop that had long ago replaced what organs he had welling up from his throat and threaten to spill over. He hurried from the room as fast as his legs could carry him, not wanting the person he’d been working with and would have to continue working with at least for today to see this breakdown.  
  
In the hallway Jack wiped away the sludge-like goop that welled from his void eyes and out of his mouth, coughing instinctively to get as much out as he could so he could function…somewhat again. Angry, more at himself than at Scott now the man watched as, once it stopped the dark liquid dissipated in a fog-like fashion, the only thing revealing anything had ever been there initially being slightly darker spots on Jack’s otherwise plain clothes. Sighing, Jack plastered his usual show-man’s smile before finishing his walk to the outside.  
  
Freddy Fazbear’s Pepperonerie was again open for another day! Children and their parents started to trickle, then flood into the opened Pizzeria. Excited chattering and yelling filled the air and the Orange Man’s spine grew rigid every time a child’s voice rose past what he was used to hearing in happy children. Empty eyes looking downwards as they resigned themself to staying to work for the day, Jack shuffled to and fro, sliding back into the role he’d had when he had worked as a Dayshift worker. Cleaning the floor of tokens and delivering pizzas. But purposefully avoiding the backroom. Despite the call he felt towards it, Jack dug his heels in for once, and stuck on remaining in the dining area.  
  
Several hours had passed in a whirlwind of colors and sounds before the Orange person noticed that the Phoney he’d been working with was trying to get his attention. Grimacing now, Jack looked around to try and zone back into reality, focusing for a second on the obnoxiously bright patterns on the carpeted floor before he made his way over to Scott. Perhaps it would've been better if he'd just left as soon as he could. The Phoney was giving him an odd look now, somehow despite not having much in the way of a face that is. 

"Good job sir, it seems we did well today. For the first day being open, I think we can safely say that we're off to a great start."

Dark eyes narrowed up at the black colored phone. It was now or never. Pulling a knife out of his pocket, Jack pointed it at the taller man, in a vaguely threatening manner. 

"I saved up, and I heard about you having issues today, so I'd like to _seriously_ replace you." He drawled out, ever present smile becoming more neutral. "We can do better here that way, and I doubt you wanna stay here anyways." 

If it was possible, Scott probably would have swallowed nervously, as it was his hands fidgeted by his side before slipping into his pockets as he rocked hesitantly back on his heels. The knife hopefully driving home that the orange person was dead set on this.

"A-alright sir I'll get on that right away. Sorry if I did anything wrong-"

Old Sport cut him off before he could continue. "Nah I just need someone who can keep up with me y'know?" They'd heard the self-deprecation many a time before and frankly didn't have the patience for it anymore. Sixty years would do that to a person...or whatever Jack was anyways. Orange and unchanged as they were human was probably…not accurate at this point. Maybe once upon a time, but as the Phone Guy at Bakersfield had said oh-so-accurately before Dave and Old Sport had ruined the location completely, he was a monster.

  
Before they got stuck reminiscing again, Jack mechanically took the coins out of his pockets, and dumped them into the Phone Guys hands, before giving him a hard look.  
  
"Please get this sorted by closing. Whoever we hire will need time to get used to how things run here and all that shit." Not wanting to remain and listen to any further stuttering lines programmed into the phone, Jack headed to the stage, where the doggo he'd bought was performing. At least it wasn’t the fox..like they'd originally wanted..   
Straightening out slightly stained clothes, Old Sport wandered into the hallway leading to the office, pretending to be busy without doing anything. Being around customers or, even worse, children would probably snap the fraying control he held over himself.  
  
Dealing with _liars_ did tend to do that to the orange. Twitching hands aching to do something, anything at all, he mopped the hallway. Might as well attempt to bring down liability. Waste the last hour doing something kinda helpful..? Once he was finished, Jack went to put the mop and bucket back into the tiny storage closet they'd added, before pausing at the familiar sound of footsteps. It looks like whoever Scott had hired was here now.. Smiling almost viciously, Jack hurried to put away the supplies so he could eavesdrop on whatever they were saying.  
  
"...And this is the office, where I’ll be catching you up on things...including how this place is run...and on the b-boss.."  
Was that static from the new guy? Jack frowned as he was barely able to hear what Scott was saying. Crouching down lower, he crept closer to the entrance of the office, hoping to hear better, or even better, catch a glimpse of the new guy before they were officially introduced.  
  
**Purple.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, hopefully this chapter is good, I’ve been dealing with work things, as well as a laptop that’s slowly breaking down, with some of the keys not working anymore so writing things takes awhile.. ^^;


	4. Author's Note!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not an update (will replace with actual one once I finish it)

I have been dealing with some rather severe personal issues since around October of last year that's been drastically inhibiting my ability to work on any creative projects, but I'm getting better now so expect an update in the next few weeks at the latest, this is a story that I've been really interested in fleshing out, and I'm honored that people are interested in it! Thank you for your patience, and I'll see you guys on the Flipside ;)


End file.
